I've been overlooked by the Lawson family a hundred times over.

On birthdays, they only ever get a cake for my sister, Jocelyn Lawson.

When I'm sick, I lie alone in a hospital bed while they fuss around her.

I tell myself to tough it out and be a good daughter, but no amount of my endurance ever earns me a drop of their favor.

On my wedding day, I think I'll finally get my moment to shine, at least for once.

But I'm wrong.

My parents, my brother, and even my fiance—Felix Wright, the head of a mafia empire—abandon me to attend Jocelyn's graduation ceremony. They leave me standing alone at the altar, enduring the guests' whispers and pitying glances.

But Felix just throws me a cold line. "It's just a wedding. We'll make it up another day."

It's not the first time.

At our engagement party, Jocelyn whimpers about a stomachache, and he rushes her to the hospital without a flicker of hesitation. I'm left to smile through gritted teeth, making excuses to a room full of guests.

That's the moment it hits me. To them, I'll always be the spare.

So, I walk away. I pack my bags and carry a secret with me—the child growing inside me.

This time, I'm done waiting for their scraps of affection.

I'm starting a new chapter in my life, for me and my baby.

The night my wedding fell apart, my sister, Jocelyn Lawson, posted a family photo from her graduation on social media.

She was flanked by our parents and brother, while my fiance stood behind her, holding a bouquet like a steadfast guardian. Her smile looked dazzling at the center of it all.

Her caption was simple but stung like a barb. "The favorite never has to wait."

The glow of my phone screen lit up my face. A hollow ache settled in my chest—not anger, but a bone-deep weariness.

I typed a brief comment. "Congrats on your graduation. Thrilled for you."

The door flew open just as I was about to turn off my phone.

My brother, Joseph Lawson, stormed in, his words sharp as a blade. "What the hell was that comment you left on Jocelyn's post? Are you seriously mocking your own sister in front of everyone?"

He didn't wait for my explanation and barreled on. "You've already embarrassed yourself at your wedding today. Now, you want to drag Jocelyn down with you?"

I set my phone on the nightstand, keeping my voice steady. "I wasn't mocking her. I meant every word."

My calmness caught him off guard for a moment before his eyes flicked to the packed suitcase on the floor. He scoffed.

"Oh, here we go again. Is this just some runaway stunt you're pulling to get attention? Hoping we'll all beg for you to stay?

"Joanna Lawson, you've been pulling these melodramatic stunts since you were a kid. Can't you just take a page from Jocelyn's book and act like an adult?"

Then, like he was giving out chores, he continued, "Jocelyn's craving cheesy seafood casserole. Go on, make it. And apologize to her while you're at it."

His tone was so casual, like I owed them something by default.

I didn't argue like I usually would.

"Fine," I said evenly, turning toward the kitchen.

Joseph was caught off guard by my sudden compliance, and his voice rose. "Hold on. You're not going to mess with the food, are you? Why aren't you pushing back this time?"

I looked back at him, my eyes rimmed red. "Joseph, is that really what you think of me?"

Maybe it was the hurt in my expression that made him falter. He frowned and looked away, his tone softening. "I doubt you'd dare."

Then, with casual indifference, he brushed off everything that had happened today. "Jocelyn's graduation is a once-in-a-lifetime event. Your wedding didn't work out today, but we'll make it up another day."

Make it up another day.

They treated my wedding like it was some casual gathering they could simply reschedule.

Today, in that church, with all of Ashbourne's big shots seated at the long tables and the media's cameras fixed on the empty groom's chair, I stood alone in the spotlight for ten agonizing minutes before an usher finally led me offstage.

The very first thing Felix Wright—a mafia boss known for always keeping his word—said to me was the same line. "We'll make it up another day."

I kept my head down, walked quietly into the kitchen, and started prepping the ingredients.

As I pried open scallop after scallop, the saltwater stung my skin. Soon, angry welts began to rise on my fingers. The truth was, I'd always been allergic to seafood.

The pain in my hands didn't make me cry, though. What really stung was how familiar it felt. I was already used to the pain of being unseen.

Before this, at my engagement ceremony, Jocelyn had whimpered about a stomachache.

Without a second thought, my fiance, Felix, abandoned me mid-ceremony in front of all our guests and rushed her to the hospital.

I was left standing alone at the altar, apologizing to everyone and holding the ceremony together on my own.

That was the 99th time I'd been pushed aside. The wedding today made it the hundredth.

Jocelyn's delicate voice drifted from the living room. "Joseph, I can't get this snack bag open."

Joseph shot up from his seat. His footsteps sounded frantic. "Don't you do it! What if you hurt your hands? They're meant for the piano."

His voice was thick with concern.

I went back to my room and closed the door.

My fingers undid the hidden clasps on the back of my wedding dress, and the white fabric slipped free, pooling around my feet like ocean waves.

I sat at my desk and opened my laptop. The cursor blinked steadily at the end of a half-finished email—an application for the Doctors Without Borders program.

I typed the final line. "I'm available to leave within two weeks."

Then, I hit send.

This wasn't the first time they had let me down. It was the 100th, and it would be the last.

I picked up my phone and scrolled through my chat history with Felix. His last message glared back at me. "It's just a wedding. We'll make it up another day."

I set the phone face down on the desk.

If Jocelyn was all they could see, I would let her be their whole world.

As for me, I'd leave this city, this family, and the man who put me on his list of things he could simply "reschedule".

No goodbyes. No looking back.

Joseph took the plate from me without so much as a glance and murmured to Jocelyn, "Be careful. It's hot."

He gave her a soft smile, his eyes sliding past me like I was nothing more than a servant.

I put on oven mitts and carried the cheesy seafood casserole to the dining table. But before I could even reach it, the scene that unfolded before me made my eyes sting.

My dad, Marcus Lawson, was a man who never had the patience to hear me out. He was sitting quietly on the couch, hanging on every word as Jocelyn shared funny stories from school.

My mom, Olivia Bennett, had an arm gently draped around her as she tucked a few loose strands of hair behind Jocelyn's ear.

Joseph sat nearby, his eyes brimming with amusement.

The whole family was gathered around her, like she was the star of the day.

I stood in the doorway, feeling like an outsider in my own home.

"Dinner's ready," I said softly.

Jocelyn looked up at me, a triumphant smirk flickering across her lips before she slipped into her best wounded puppy act.

"Joanna, are you still mad at me? Did… your wedding get wrecked because of me?"

Mom's expression immediately lost its warmth. "Joanna, what's with that attitude? Jocelyn's graduation only happens once in her life. If you've got a problem, keep it to yourself. Don't ruin the mood for everyone else."

Dad scowled and snapped, "Get over here already! Stop dawdling!"

Mom's tone was chilling as she warned, "If you dare hold a grudge against Jocelyn, don't bother calling me Mom anymore."

Jocelyn feigned concern as she tugged Mom's hand and cooed, "Mom, please don't be mad at Joanna. She must be upset that her wedding was called off."

She emphasized the words "called off", her eyes gleaming with deliberate provocation.

I raised my head and met her gaze, my voice devoid of emotion. "I'm not upset. Your graduation is a big deal. It deserves to be celebrated."

They all froze, as if they hadn't expected me to take it so calmly.

Just then, the door swung open.

Felix walked in, carrying a beautifully decorated cake. His voice was gentle, so much softer than it had ever been with me.

"Jocelyn, happy graduation. I had this custom-made for you. The little piano on top was personally made by a master pastry chef."

Jocelyn's smile was radiant, her eyes gleaming with pride. "Thank you, Felix. But… Did you forget to get something for Joanna?"

That was when he seemed to remember I was here. He pulled out a small slice of tiramisu from behind his back. "Joan, this is for you. Your favorite chocolate flavor."

I stared at the lonely piece of tiramisu, then at the extravagant strawberry cake on the table, and couldn't help but laugh bitterly to myself.

He had never bothered to learn what I liked. I didn't even eat chocolate, yet he kept giving it to me.

Over the years, it wasn't just my desserts that ended up in Jocelyn's hands. It was everyone's attention, too.

I reached out and took the tiramisu, my lips curving faintly. "Thanks."

My fingers accidentally brushed against the pregnancy test in my pocket.

Two lines, bright and clear.

This morning, I'd stood in the bathroom, staring at it for what felt like an eternity as my heart pounded uncontrollably.

I'd planned to tell Felix at the wedding, picturing his face lighting up with surprise. Maybe he'd even lift me into his arms and spin me around.

But none of that mattered now.

This child wouldn't be welcomed by anyone, but I'd protect them. Even if it were just me, I'd take them and leave this place.

I shoved the thought away and walked to the dining table.

The spread was almost entirely of Jocelyn's favorites, except for the seafood casserole I'd made. Mom, Dad, and Joseph kept piling food into her bowl, showering her with praise between bites.

"Jocelyn, you're the pride of our family. Landing a spot in a piano concerto right out of college is just incredible!"

"Yeah, Joanna's nothing like you. What else does she even have besides cooking?"

"Jocelyn, don't you follow her example. Kitchen grease and smoke will ruin your hands. They're meant for the piano."

Jocelyn flashed a sweet smile, then said with deliberate kindness, "Mom, Dad, you should try some of Joanna's cooking. She worked hard on it."

It was only then that Mom seemed to remember me. She casually dropped a single shrimp into my bowl as a token gesture. "You worked hard, Joan. Go on, eat some."

I gently set down my cutlery. "I'm full."

Mom's expression hardened instantly. Feigning innocence, Jocelyn said, "Mom, is Joanna still upset about the wedding being called off?"

Mom shot me a glare. "Eat it or don't. No one's begging you!"

In the next second, Jocelyn suddenly clutched her throat, her face flushing bright red.

"Mom! Help me… I can't breathe…"

When I looked over, angry red hives were already spreading quickly across her skin—a clear sign of an allergic reaction.

Dad shot to his feet, his sharp gaze locking on me. "Joanna, there's something wrong with the food you made!"

Mom's shrill voice followed. "I knew it! You're fuming, so you hurt Jocelyn on purpose, didn't you?"

Joseph stepped in front of Jocelyn, shielding her as if she were a fragile treasure. "I should've known you were up to something when you went all quiet."

Felix's gaze joined theirs—cold and distant, without a trace of doubt in their accusation against me.

Four pairs of eyes bore into me, pinning me in place.

I hadn't done a thing, yet their baseless accusations painted me as the villain who'd poisoned Jocelyn.

A chill crept through my chest.

So this was what I meant to them. I was nothing—not a daughter, not a sister, and not a fiancee. Just a shadow they could cast aside whenever they pleased, and a convenient scapegoat whenever things went wrong.

Felix's eyes were ice-cold as he stared at me, as if I were a stranger.

He said flatly, "Let's take Jocelyn to the hospital first."

He didn't hesitate, question, or even harbor a single doubt about the so-called "crime" they'd pinned on me.

Joseph hurriedly draped a coat over Jocelyn and helped her out the door.

They all rushed out, not one of them sparing me a glance.

The moment the door slammed shut, silence swallowed the house whole. Only then did the weight of it hit me. They were really gone, and I was all alone.

I dragged my numb body back to my room. The silence was so heavy that even the sound of my own breathing felt jarring.

I opened the closet and folded a few everyday clothes into my suitcase. Passport, IDs, and bank cards—I checked them one by one.

As I cleared out my drawer, a thick notebook slipped out and thudded onto the floor. It was the diary I'd started writing when I was eight.

I stared at it, my fingers trembling, and was unable to stop myself from flipping it open.

Page after page, the yellowed paper held the stories of my growing pains and loneliness.

When I was little, money was tight, and my parents always said they had to give the best for Joseph and Jocelyn.

Joseph's brilliance earned him a place at an elite private school, while Jocelyn's frail health demanded their constant care and attention.

As for me? I was sent to a boarding school, and ten years slipped away just like that.

Whenever the holidays came around, the dorm would empty as my roommates were picked up by their parents for family reunions.

I was always the one left behind, standing in the quiet hallway as I watched everyone else roll their suitcases away. The letters that occasionally came from home were brief and cold. "Behave yourself. Don't cause us trouble."

When I finally earned my place at a university, I thought I'd earned the "right" to come home. Yet there were no warm embraces, nor whispered words saying they'd missed me. Their only offering was a cramped, shadowy room in the corner of the first floor.

That was when the realization hit me. In this family, I was nothing more than a burden they needed to tuck away.

At first, I'd cried. I buried my face in my pillow at night, sobbing until my throat burned. But eventually, I forced myself to go silent.

I threw myself into chores, followed every rule, and did everything I could to make myself "useful". I was convinced that if I worked hard enough, they'd finally look my way.

But reality proved, again and again, that no matter how much I tried, some things were simply out of reach. Their love, for instance, had never been meant for me.

My hand froze on a page, my fingers pressing so hard the paper creased.

I took a deep breath and closed the diary.

My gaze drifted toward the nightstand, where the pregnancy test lay. The two lines stared back at me, so stark that it hurt to look.

This morning, I'd pictured myself telling Felix on our wedding day, watching the first spark of joy light up his eyes, and feeling him pull me into his arms.

But now, I knew that this was a secret I no longer needed to share.